Prisoner 113
by Gorton Colu
Summary: I don't know about you, but I was expecting something a little different for Shepard's situation when I played the ME 3 demo.  Here's more of what I had in mind.  Got some swears and its gonna get bloody.


I own nothing.

Prisoner 113

"Lt. James Vega, Alliance Navy. Reporting for shift sixteen, guard duty." His voice was booming, powerful and confident. James Vega was man who knew his own worth and wasn't afraid to let you know to. Built like a six foot tank, with thick slabs of muscles rippling in every motion.

"Settle a bet human," the bored Turian guard intoned. "It's not really a Batarian terrorist in there is it? The council wouldn't get personally involved in a prisoner unless it was a little bigger than that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Vega replied as he whipped his ID card across the scanner. Acess denied. He did it again, more slowly. DNA scan required.

"It's her isn't it?"

Vega grimaced and said nothing. He'd never been a good liar. The DNA scanner beeped an affirmative. The heavy steel doors opened with a painful slowness. Vega slipped through as fast as he could leaving the Turian smirking behind him. Anderson had told him, no, ordered him to discuss Prisoner 113, and anything relating to Prisoner 113 with no one. There were only five other people on the Citadel who knew what he knew right now. Four of them were council members.

James reviewed his other orders as he walked down the narrow metal corridor, lined with chokepoints and reinforced emergency doors with complicated sixteen tumbler locks on each, they had to be opened one at a time by the key he carrying around his neck. Each would only open if the preceeding door had been shut and locked. None of them would open if the heavy metal doors at both ends of the hall weren't sealed with their six digit, guard specific code. Vega punched his in, and watched the door rise into the ceiling to reveal Cellblock Zero.

There were ten cells inside, each one an 8x8x8 cube made of reinforced concrete, and thick titanium bars, hardened to withstand the strongest mass effect fields. Until recently Cellblock Zero had had six inhabitants living inside. Now there was exactly one.

Cell three had been modified in anticipation of its new guest. The changes made the rest of C Zero look almost luxurious by comparison. The cot, normally consisting of a hard mattress on a metal plate bolted into the wall, with one thin blanket and a small pillow was ripped out entirely, in its place was a thin pad. Like a yoga mat, except this was screwed into the floor at the edges. The sink had been removed entirely, replaced by nothing except a steel plate lagged into the wall. The exposed toliet, had been left alone out of necesity. Honestly, James was surprised they left her that much.

"0500 Vega. Right on time. Just like usual." The words, called out between sneering lips, shook James out of his thoughts. He let his eyes slide over the man in front of him. Tall, with skin just a shade darker than his own. Handsome and he knew it, which spoiled some of the effect. To here Valorez tell it, he was an N7 soldier who was screwed over by the brass, and bounced around from assignment to assignment until he ended up here.

Alvo Valorez was the only person, other than James and the Council who knew about Prisoner 113. Maybe Valorez thought that made him special. Maybe that was the reason for his attitude. Maybe it was the reason Vega hated him.

"Anything to report?" Vega tried to keep the dislike from sliding into his tone.

"Anything to report? Come on Jimbo, you sound like a fuckin robot."

"Your report, Sgt."

"She eats, she sleeps, does some push-ups. If I give her the sponge, she takes a bath. Just FYI Jimbo, that's my favorite part." Valorez smirked.

"You know something, Sgt. I find your attitude toward the prisoner increasingly unacceptable."

Valorez got so close, Vega could feel his hot, fetid breathe on his face.

"Well boo-fuckin-hoo Jimbo."

Vega took a deep breathe and exhaled slowly. Again. It took all his willpower but he managed to keep from decking him. This time.

"I'm sure Admiral Anderson would be interested as well. Maybe I'll put something down in my next report."

Valorez slithered back, a gaurded look in his eye. Oh yes, he'd been burnt by the system before.

"I bet you feel like a such a big man, with that Lt.'s bar on your collar. Made mommy and daddy proud of their little soldier didn't you? Well take it from someone who served in the trenches, Jimbo. The reports don't mean shit. That little piece of metal don't mean shit. YOU don't mean shit. I get the job done. And that's all they care about."

They stared, eye to eye, each unwilling to break away first. Until Valorez roughly shouldered him aside. He punched in the code to the door and left without a backward glance.

And with that James Vega was alone. In a room. With the most dangerous person in the galaxy less than then feet away.

.

.

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Inspired by the baddassness of Femshep and the incredible short vid on youtube; Portal: No escape.


End file.
